There Is No Justice
by Yukitoshuu Itsumademo
Summary: Ch 2Helga and Phoebe, Defense Attournies for Bill, a man accused of murder. Nobody believes the rubbish that Bill is not the murderer, but can Arnold help Helga sort it all out before it's too late? And who is the victim? Someone you'll never guess...
1. Not Guilty?

There Is No Justice  
  
By Arnoldnhelga4eva  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold or Harvard  
  
Hey, here's my new story that I've been talking about for a while. Helga and Phoebe (Defense Attorneys) get stuck with a case they'd rather not deal with. Arnold (the detective) and Helga discover something that could change everything around. When they get caught up in the swirl of the case, will they get caught up in something else?  
  
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Chapter 1: Not Guilty  
  
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Quote: 'The things we don't realize can only prove our blindness.'  
  
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'Okay, tell me what you're gonnna plead.'  
  
'Not guilty! I swear I didn't do it!' the grotesque looking man told the young defense attorney. It was her third year on the job but she played it like she'd been doing this for ages. A Harvard graduate and right away the best law firms in the country were begging her to come work for them. Taking an offer close to home was the best choice, however, she lived clear across town; far away from the place she used to call home. Looking the man straight in the eye she thought would make him talk, but it did nothing. It only made his whining louder, like a little three-year-old saying he didn't spill his juice on mom's nice tablecloth.  
  
'Miss Pataki I swear. If I would've done it, I would've told ya. I was set up! I loved my wife!'  
  
What a liar, Helga thought.  
  
'Look Bill, if you don't talk now and tell the truth, the sentence will be worse! We've gotta settle this now or you're gonna be looking at 25 years to life in prison. You'll--'  
  
'So nobody believes me.' He interpolated. 'I should've known. You always get the truth out of everyone--'  
  
'Except you, Bucko. You're my hardest client yet.' She spoke slowly and seriously while slamming her hands on the table. Usually she wasn't this aggressive with her clients, but all evidence was pointed right at him and she wanted the best deal for him. All evidence pointed right at him. If he would just confess.  
  
But what does she know about confessions? The hardest one was for that one boy--man actually, that she never told but once, and he didn't believe her. Or maybe he just didn't want to believe her. That's one reason she went into law school. She wanted people to tell the truth and not to keep it hidden like she always had. Not one time could she ever tell him but that one incident, how she really felt. Getting this information out of this man was top on her list if it was the last thing she'd ever do. She wasn't about to make a fool of herself in court. She'd make him confess.  
  
'Bill,' she started a little less maliciously, 'You're my hardest client yet, but honesty is the best way out. And truthfully, I don't believe you. I haven't gotten the truth out of you.'  
  
'Oh but you have Miss Pataki. That's one thing all your clients have in common, we've all told you the truth. There's something about you that makes people want to confess, and I've told you. If you don't believe me, then it's gonna be harder for you to win the case; impossible in fact. Maybe I should let you think about it overnight. Go see that one detective about the evidence. What's his name again? Arnold.something?' Helga's heart did a double flip in her chest and her face turned bright crimson. One reason she took this case was because Arnold was the main detective with all the details of the evidence. If she needed to go see him, she'd have no problem doing that.  
  
'Fine Bill, I'm going to go see him, and you'll have tonight to think about telling us the truth tomorrow. C'mon Phoebes.' Getting up without looking at him she walked out of the room with Phoebe trailing behind, notepad in hand and a pencil tucked neatly behind her ear. Phoebe decided to let Helga do all the talking this time, because she had a way with people. Something in her made people want to confess. Phoebe decided just to take notes, but left with a blank notepad.  
  
'Phoebes, you go look over his files again. I'll go look at the evidence with Arnold.' Phoebe inwardly grinned. For years Helga had arranged things to be with Arnold. After Phoebe and Helga both graduated from Harvard law, they got word of a job in Hillwood, working with Arnold's agency many times. Quickly jumping to the job, they had worked with Arnold a few times. Once again, Helga found a way to be with Arnold.  
  
'All right Helga. That sounds like a good plan. Call me when you and Arnold have derived the information needed.'  
  
'See ya Phoebes!' Helga called as she walked out of the building. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed a few numbers. It rang a few times before someone answered.  
  
'Hello?' A husky voice answered making Helga's heart melt.  
  
'Hiya football head, it's me. Listen, I need to check out the evidence for this case. My client keeps telling me he's not guilty so I gotta check out what the criminal left behind.'  
  
'Helga, we all know he's guilty. You don't even need the evidence.'  
  
'I know I know, but he's my client and he's paying me a helluva lot of money for this case. Where can I meet you?'  
  
'Well, it's all at the station. Stop by in about five minutes and I'll explain it all in depth.'  
  
'Make it ten. I'm pretty far away so I'll be there at four. See ya round head boy.'  
  
'Whatever you say Helga.' She pressed end on her phone and sighed. Once she reached her car, she pulled out her keys and opened the door. It had been a long day. First of all, her alarm clock decided to stop working the one morning she needed it most. The meeting was half over by the time she got there. Out of breath, she walked into the room with Phoebe and the prosecutors.  
  
'We all know he's guilty, so just give it up Helga!'  
  
'We'll see about that Princess.' Was Helga's only remark to her long time enemy, and now opponent, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. Rhonda was right though, he was guilty. Helga just gave her that ice cold glare as she walked out of Rhonda's office. Winning was another thing high on Helga's priority list. Not because her father harped on her about it day and night, but because she'd show Rhonda once and for all. Unlike Helga, Rhonda was to be the future Mrs. Rudolf Whitney (previously known in their childhood as Peapod kid), the wealthiest man in the country.  
  
The police station came into view as she parked in a vacant spot. As casual as possible, she got out of the car but one look at Arnold (who was waiting for her outside) and her knees turned to jelly, sending her to fall flat on her face. A worried look spread over Arnold's face as he rushed over to help her up.  
  
Nice job Helga! Make yourself look like an idiot in front of Arnold!, she thought.  
  
'Are you okay Helga?' He asked while helping her off the ground. A small blush crept across her face from embarrassment as she brushed herself off.  
  
'I would be if you wouldn't touch me.' She lashed out at him once again without thinking, letting her tongue get the best of her; taking control of her heart.  
  
'Sorry. I was just trying to help. Anyway, the evidence is inside. I also have some other information about suspects. You already know the main suspect, but there are others with other motives that we just discovered by talking to friends and family.'  
  
'Like who?' she inquired.  
  
'Like Bill's brother, Tom. I heard he was having an affair with the victim; not very ethical if you ask me.'  
  
'Yeah, well my client all ready creeps me out enough. I don't need some other schmo to add to the pot.'  
  
'Well, if you want the best trial for your client, then you're gonna have to. I'm sure he's a good--'  
  
'Arnold!' Helga interrupted, 'You say that about everyone, yet there are some people that there is no good in!' Arnold replied with a sigh, showing that once again Helga had defeated him with her wit.  
  
'You know Helga, you sure are indomitable. I mean, nobody could defeat you in an argument. You should think about running for office some day.' Helga just smirked. Once or twice had she thought about it, but only a mere thought.  
  
'Maybe someday football head. For now, we need to get this case cleared.'  
  
'Right, here's the room where the evidence is kept. There's a video camera in here so be careful of what you touch. When we get in there, you need to sign this sheet and--'  
  
"I know I know! Crimeny! I've done this a million times Arnoldo! You don't need to explain it to me again! Sheesh!'  
  
She's still got her old fire, Arnold thought while putting on gloves, and putting his card in the little slot so they could enter the room.  
  
^*^  
  
'And this is his razor, to get hare samples from. The CSI's ordered DNS samples and they matched. Even though this was his home, we still need to go through with every piece of evidence.  
  
'Well I think you should give the razor back to him. It could add some grist to his mill.'  
  
'Helga!'  
  
'What?' she asked innocently. Arnold sighed for a third time that day, showing victory for Helga once again.  
  
'Hey, what's this?' she asked picking up a bag that contained a shard of glass with a piece of denim stuck in it. Dark red blood barely visible covered a small part of the denim and glass as Helga examined it meticulously. Her eyes widened at one realization.  
  
~Flashback~  
  
'So Bill, can I call you Bill?'  
  
'Yeah, of course Miss Pataki. You've just gotta help me win this case!' He pleaded. She took notice of the orange jumpsuit he was forced to wear in prison and decided to make a joke of it.  
  
'So, you don't usually wear jeans and golf shirts do ya? I guess the fashion for men these days is orange jumpsuits?' she asked priggishly.  
  
'Don't like fashion?' He asked tugging at the cloth.  
  
'Never, but the prosecutor is really into it. We all thought she'd become a fashion designer or something.  
  
'Yeah, I never liked jeans, too uncomfortable. I wore golf shirts and khakis often though.'  
  
~*~  
  
That conversation ruminated in Helga's mind as she stared at this piece of evidence. Taking notice of this, Arnold looked at her most peculiarly.  
  
'What is it Helga?' Her eyes adverted over to his as she opened her mouth to try speak. At first nothing came out but some inaudible nonsense. Usually, she was impervious to situations like these. This one, however, caught her off guard. She finally collected her cool, and formed the words that had been on the tip of her tongue. 'H-He's innocent.'  
  
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Well, whadya think of the first chapter? I thought the quote went with the story, so I added it on the top. I wrote that quote, but if somehow someone else wrote something like it, then I'm sorry. I didn't know. Anyway, R/R, tell me whatcha think, and I'll.  
  
C ya l8ter!  
  
Arnoldnhelga4eva 


	2. Innocence

There Is No Justice  
  
By Arnoldnhelga4eva  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own HA.  
  
Hey, chapter 2, enjoy.  
  
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Chapter 2: Innocence  
  
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'W-what are you talking about?' Arnold asked wondering what her change of heart was.  
  
'H-he's innocent. He doesn't wear jeans.' She said in a state of qualm.  
  
'How did you know that? He could be saying that.'  
  
'No! He's innocent! Did you get the blood type on this? Where was this?' she said while abrasively hitting the table.  
  
'Woah! Settle down Helga. The killer broke a glass showcase when he was attacking the victim. A piece of glass got caught on the jeans and ripped them, making a very small laceration in the skin no doubt.'  
  
'Does the blood type match?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'But other people could have the same blood type, right?'  
  
'Yeah, but--'  
  
'Is there a laceration on him?'  
  
'We don't know what part it came from. There could be so many possibilities. Plus, it seems to be a small laceration. It just caught his jeans barely puncturing the skin enough to make a deep cut. It's too late now to check because the wound would be healed by now.'  
  
'What blood type was he?'  
  
'Type A'  
  
'And what blood type was his wife?'  
  
'I don't know, let me check.' Placing the bag back in Helga's hands, he walked over to his files and started shuffling through them. When he came back with the file, he set it down and Helga leafed through it. Coming upon what she was looking for, she read it aloud.  
  
'Type A. Arnold, have you thought that it may have been her blood and jeans? Oh, and also.HE HAD NO MOTIVE!'  
  
'The crime was committed at night, she probably wouldn't be wearing jeans to bed.'  
  
Helga sighed, and Arnold pondered her point for a moment and as if lightning struck his head, he came up with a solution.  
  
'Well, there was no sign of anyone entering the house because no windows were shattered. The door was locked when the police got there too. How much have you actually looked into this case Helga, or is this just another client whose paying you money?'  
  
Helga looked at him maliciously. How dare he accuse her of doing this only for money, but now was not the time to lose her cool. She had to find a way to convince the jury, and the public that Bill Wise was in fact innocent.  
  
'I've mostly looked at the evidence and what happened during the attack but everytime I asked someone what happened prior and post attack, everyone said they didn't know. So maybe the police force isn't exactly doing their job. Maybe most of them are just air headed doofs going to the scene of the crime because they have to!' she retorted vehemently.  
  
Just let it slide, just ignore that. I had it coming to me anyway, Arnold thought to himself.  
  
'That's strange,' he said as if he didn't even hear Helga's last comment, 'Most of my colleagues should know. But I must admit, some of them are in it only because they have to.'  
  
'Well I was never told about all of this. It wasn't in the papers that were sent to me. When did this piece of evidence come in?'  
  
'About three days ago. The murder happened a week ago. They found this glass shard way in the kitchen, tucked in-between the refrigerator and cupboard. There's a space about five inches wide. The murderer must have hit the case pretty hard for that to happen.'  
  
'So let's say my client was out of town when this happened. What's up with the secondary suspect?'  
  
'Oh, Tom? I don't know that much about him. We haven't gotten as much background on him because he has no motive, plus when we questioned him, he said he was out of town.'  
  
'I don't care if he said he was fucking out of town! He's as much of a suspect as my client!' Helga retorted. If she were any steamier, you could fry an egg on her head. It wasn't that she was mad at Arnold, she wasn't. All she was angry with was this man wasn't given the same treatment as her client, and she had a strange feeling every time she heard that name--Tom. Trying to focus on the better things, like she learned in her anger management classes, she cooled down ever so slightly. Knowing from his childhood, Arnold knew the only way to let Helga get back on track was by letting her do it herself. Composing herself, she turned back to Arnold.  
  
'I'm.sorry, Arnold. I just hate this case. I-I mean, one piece of evidence points everything away from him, and I--I just.' she tired saying the rest but nothing came to mind. A little more serene than before, she started studying the evidence again. Staring dumbfoundedly at her, Arnold decided to speak up.  
  
'T-that's okay Helga. I-I just never knew you were so.passionate about this case. I think that's great that you care so much.' With those words said , Helga whipped her head up from her focus and now focused on him.  
  
'Look,' he started again, 'I'm sure it's been a long day for you. Why don't we go and get something to eat, my treat.' She let a smile stealthily play across her mouth and he gave her an equally amiable smile.  
  
'Okay, I guess that sounds okay.' She said. He smiled and led her out of the building. Helga was seaming abstraction while taking short glances at the man beside her. Whenever he was near, everything else around seemed blurry and dizzy. It felt.it felt like she was in a Utopia, having him so close that she could bump into him and their elbows would brush.so she did just that. They both muttered a barely audible apology.  
  
'Hey Helga, why don't we take my car, and I'll drop you off here afterwards?' He suggested. Her heart fluttered at his offer, and she smiled. It was one of her smiled you may come across two or three times in a life time--so beautiful that one could not stop staring at it. Helga took notice of this and frowned ruining the moment.  
  
'Well, your doors are locked head boy!' testing it again, it wouldn't budge. Arnold was shooken out of his thoughts at the sound of her viscous tone, pulling at the handle.  
  
'Here,' he said while pressing a button, 'it's unlocked.' When they both settled in the car, he turned on the engine and headed out. She took notice of how nice his interior was, with its plush seats, and fancy dashboard. She couldn't help but think of the old Packard and how old it was in their childhood. It had been uncomfortable the two times Helga had ridden in it, one being in fourth grade after she took a dare from Arnold and Gerald, the other in the ninth grade when her father had forgotten to pick her up from play practice, again.  
  
~flashback~  
  
Arnold had stayed later to work on scenery. Noticing her out in the cold, he offered her a ride home. She accepted graciously, but still trying hard not to show it. The night had ended with him asking her out when he walked her up to her front door. After he and Helga got out of the car, his grandpa sped off down the street. Shouting after him didn't make him stop, so Helga invited Arnold inside. That ol' coot knew exactly what he was doing. For years he'd been trying to get those two together but nothing seemed to work, so he moved to the last resort. Walking to Helga's room to work on lines after about five minutes of debate on what he should do, he took notice of Big Bob Pataki sitting in his big arm chair; drool cascading down his chin. She grabbed his arm and had to drag Arnold away from this awful sight before he learnt more of this, her family life. Knowing his ethics and how he wanted to help everyone, she didn't want him to know about this. Why? She didn't want him to be in the middle of her family rows, especially with Bob, as Helga plainly called her father.  
  
Once upstairs, she dropped her back pack on her crème colored carpet as he followed her. When he caught sight of her room, he stood in awe. Almost everything was clad in pink, except her carpet and some accessories.  
  
All of a sudden, his mind just went back to what he saw sitting in that chair. Her father--not even caring that his youngest daughter needed to be picked up from play practice. A bolt of pity flew through him and he suddenly understood everything, why she acts like she does. It's because her family life was no good. She looked at him and saw that look in his eyes. Pity was the look she didn't like. Being the best school bully to come out of PS118, she never wanted to see that look on anyone's face for her. An idea struck him. Maybe he should ask her out, that way he could get close to her, and really find more out about her. She really was quite beautiful.on the other hand, he might just be scheduling a meeting with Ol' Betsy. After thinking for a minute, he decided to go in for the kill, knowing he wouldn't get any information our of her unless you got close to her, like Phoebe her best friend.  
  
'H-Helga, I-I was just wondering,' he said timidly as he scratched the back of his neck,' Well.I was just.maybe you might, uh.want to go out some time? You know.on a, date?'  
  
Standing there dumbfoundedly, she tried to form words but nothing audible came out. THAT was quite unexpected. Why was he thinking like that? Not caring for the reason she jumped to the opportunity.  
  
'S-sure, I guess. That might be nice--I-I mean, okay. It'll be okay.' She said not trying to show too much of her real self at once. It might scare him off if he suddenly gets this new picture of her; something he's not used to.  
  
By the end of the night they exchanged numbers and his grandpa finally picked him up with the excuse that he had to go to his office. Arnold laughed at his grandfather's quite corny remark and said goodbye to Helga with a hug. Arnold left and Helga watched through the window on cloud nine. After the car was out of sight, she dashed up to her room to tell Phoebe of the news.  
  
Over the weeks (yes weeks) Arnold and Helga started getting more affectionate. It was as if he'd fallen under a spell she'd cast. No doubt about it, he'd fallen in love with her. More comfortable with the public knowledge of their relationship, they stole kisses in-between classes and walked each other to class. Not knowing how blindly in love she was; more than before, she was completely infatuated with him. He was the only thing keeping her going, adding fire to her engine, even more so than when she admired him from afar.  
  
As the months turned into years, they had gone to second, then to third base but tried their best to steer clear of home base. If they went that far, they would have consequences to pay and they were far too young for that.  
  
But one night, just one night their bodies took control of their reason and they went too far. The heat between them became too great and exploded. Upon waking the next morning, they realized the mistake they made; the sacrifice they had given up from that one stupid, foolish night. Arnold left Helga's house without either of them muttering so much as a goodbye-- both completely inglovious to each other. They were in complete shock of themselves.  
  
For days they passed in the hall casting strange glances at one another until one day Arnold decided to take that painful step. He knew that if they stayed together, they couldn't step down, so he decided to come to the worst possible solution. It felt like a thousand bullets pierced his heart to do this to her. As best he could, he told her they should take a break. Completely thrown by his words, Helga tried to understand his meanings.  
  
She decided not to ask, but just nodded and continued on her way. Of course she was still in love with him, as he was with her, but that didn't stop the tears from falling.  
  
~~  
  
They never did return to one another, so they were still on a break. Helga looked to her side as he pulled up to a restaurant.her favorite one from her childhood.  
  
'Well here it is. Chez Paris. Do you remember the first time we went here? Hah. We had to wash all those dishes.' He chuckled lightly. Her face turned crimson as she remembered that she never actually told him the truth about the fake Cecile, the mysterious girl who posed as Cecile on Valentines day when they were nine. Helping her out of her side was a bold move, but he thought of it as courteous. Still dressed nicely, they fit in with the scene. She fashioned a gray dress-suit and he was clad in a white shirt with black pants. They looked like they were having a business meeting, until he laced his fingers with hers as they walked into Chez Paris.  
  
Maybe this break will be over soon, Helga hoped.  
  
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Okay, that's all for tonight. I'm tired, and going to bed. Adios.  
  
C ya l8ter!  
  
Arnoldnhelga4eva 


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